Sixty is not the new anything


A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away!
They say fifty is the new forty. Or thirty is the new twenty one. So they say. But sixty isn’t the new anything. It’s just sixty. Something like three quarters of the way through your life. A bit more than that if you’re lucky. It’s staring at me from not too far in the distance. As I type this, it’s 63 weeks away. That’ll come round fast enough I’m sure.
It’s only natural to look back. Back through some of the images and memories of the journey I’ve been on. That I’m still on. How did I get here and where am I going?

A cautionary tale or an epic winning adventure? It’s hard to tell
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d tow’rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
The Tempest, William Shakespeare

And what of this adventure? Has it been a great one? Where has it taken me




